


Teambuilding

by kerravon



Category: The Order of the Stick
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, BAMF!Belkar, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerravon/pseuds/kerravon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The OOTS is fleeing their latest encounter with their archnemesis, Xykon. Tired and injured, they hole up in a cave for the night. But how safe are they? Based on the incredible webcomic by Rich Burlew See his website for over 480 pages of comic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teambuilding

The Order of the Stick - Teambuilding

 

By KerrAvon

 

 

The group trudged across the plain in a ragged line, headed through the downpour for the foothills that lay ahead.  After their last disastrous encounter with Xykon, 'The Order of the Stick' had staged an 'expeditious retreat', hindered significantly by repeated hobgoblin attacks.  Fortunately, the thunderstorm discouraged further pursuit, to a degree that Roy Greenhilt almost agreed with Durkon that it was the 'Blessing of Thor'.  Still, they were tired, cold, injured, and soaked to the skin as the ground finally began to slope upwards.

 

Roy, the melee fighter and leader of the team, took point.  Visibility was so poor that Haley Starshine's archery skills were useless; besides, she had her arms full of semi-comatose Bard.  Elan had handled himself surprisingly well, but was overpowered by the five-to-one attack that had ultimately felled him. Greenhilt kept a watchful eye on the pair as they staggered along, ready to lend a helping hand.  For once he wouldn't have minded a little song to raise their spirits, even if it was off-key.

 

Close behind Elan and Haley stumbled their mage, Vaarsuvius.  The usually-loquacious elf had depleted all prepared spells hours earlier, ultimately resorting to hand-to-hand fighting with a staff that had been picked up from the battlefield.  Now the magic-user silently leaned heavily on that same staff, limping, blood dripping unheeded at each step.

 

Normally severe injuries were dealt with by their dwarven cleric, Durkon Thundershield.  The fighting had been so intense this day that he, too, had exhausted his magic reserve, and could now only fret over his injured companions as he diligently watched their backs.

 

Greenhilt was so desperate that he actually allowed their psychopathic ranger halfling to guard their retreat.  Despite his extremely poor ability to spot check, he was still their fittest fighter, and the one most likely to survive a surprise assault from the rear.  Roy could tell from Belkar Bitterleaf's face that he hoped some hobgoblins would get troublesome; for the rest of the group, Roy prayed they didn't.

 

The warrior couldn't believe their luck when he spotted the cave just off the deer-trail they were following.  The entrance was at a perfect height for Bitterleaf, but looked as if it might open up further inside.  He caught Haley's eye, gesturing towards the dark splotch on the hillside.  "Stay here with the team.  I'm going to check it out." 

 

The cavern did widen just inside the narrow opening, to a roundish chamber almost fifteen feet in diameter.  The floor was dry, soft dirt, and there was a small pool with fresh, trickling water in the back corner.  No signs of recent habitation by man or animal, so Roy gratefully concluded that they could safely bivouac overnight and recuperate.

 

"All clear!" he called out into the storm.  Dropping his equipment, he hurried to Elan, helping Haley wrestle the now-limp Bard into the cave and lay him in a protected spot on the ground near the left wall.  Vaarsuvius hobbled through the entrance next and, still without a sound, collapsed to the floor next to Elan.  Durkon and Belkar joined the rest of the team in the chamber, the halfling heading for the spring, the dwarf heading for his wounded comrades.

 

Elan appeared to be the worst off.  Despite his new-found prowess with the rapier, he was no match for five goblin battle-axes.  Roy and Durkon peeled the unconscious man out of his dripping clothes as Haley opened his bedroll.  The bruises on his torso demonstrated the worth of the chain mail shirt he wore beneath the white one, but deep gashes peppered the skin of his arms and legs.

 

"Ah, here be th' problem…" muttered the cleric as he fingered the goose egg over the young man's left temple.  "He got clipped a good 'un, he did."  Smiling reassuringly at the hovering thief, he continued, "I'll just dress the rest of these wounds th' ol' fashioned way, we'll wrap him up warm, and he'll keep well eno' till morning, when I can heal him proper."

 

Roy appeared magically at his side with rolls of bandages.  "Haley and I can handle that," he volunteered, jerking his chin in the direction of the nearby mage. "Why don't you go check on the V-man?"

 

Durkon nodded, then turned to where the wizard sat motionless.  His brows creased as he began to understand his leader's unvoiced concern.  The normally-immaculate elf had simply collapsed in the most convenient spot near the others, without any regard to appearances or decorum.  Robes torn and stained, headband askew, the prim and proper magic-user slumped haphazardly against the wall, eyes closed, a small pool of blood forming beneath the edge of the robe.

 

 _'Thor's hammer!'_ the dwarf thought, eyes widening in alarm.  V had definitely taken more damage than the group realized; pride had refused to allow anyone to see it until now.

 

Pulling his knife from its belt-sheath, the cleric ripped the cloth covering the area of injury; wings of alarm beat in the back of his throat when the elf neither moved nor objected.  A deep, jagged gash was revealed extending over the front third of the mage's thigh; blood still trickled sluggishly out the lateral edge.

 

"Hey, tear that robe a little higher!  I can't see," complained a sudden voice in his right ear.  The healer, intent on his patient, had forgotten the other people in the room - specifically, a little amoral halfling with gender questions about the elf.

 

The glare he shot Belkar aimed to strike fear into far mightier men; the tracker merely shrugged and settled down on the mage's opposite side.  "No, huh?  Is he…she…it going to be all right?"  Durkon blinked; for a moment he thought he saw _concern_ in the little man's face. _'No - couldn't be.'_   When he looked again, there was only the usual mask of indifference.

 

"I honestly don't know.  Get me some water, would you?"

 

Surprisingly the ranger went without complaint, returning in moments with both a bowl from the spring and some clean cloth bandages.  Wordlessly he handed the items to Durkon, then settled down to watch.  Shrugging, the dwarf returned to the concern at hand.

 

As the cold, water-soaked cloth touched the injury, Vaarsuvius's eyes flew open.  "Hsss…that hurts!"  The mage's eyes were bleary and unfocussed, but turned towards the cleric accusingly. 

 

"I'm out of CSWs until the morning, when I can ask Thor for more," reassured Durkon in low tones.  "We have to take care of things the normal way until then."  He continued his ministrations as gently as possible, but was nevertheless relieved when their wizard lost consciousness and slumped sideways.  He finished the cleaning rapidly, then bandaged the wound to stop the bleeding. 

 

"Let's get V lying down.  I've got a bedroll spread out over here."  The cleric was somehow not surprised that Roy had appeared at the side of their injured comrade.  Belkar, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten bored and wandered off.

 

The dwarf ventured, "We really should remove the wet clothing…"

 

Greenhilt snorted.  "I don't think Vaarsuvius would be too appreciative, do you?"

 

"I'll do it," Haley's voice interjected.  "We share a room whenever we stay at an inn, anyway.  Let me get a spare robe."  After a moment of surprised silence, the two men shrugged and carried the unconscious mage over to the waiting blankets, then diplomatically turned away to let the thief perform her task.

 

Roy sighed, staring out into the storm.  "We could really use a fire…if I manage to gather some wood, do you have a spell available to dry it?"

 

"Aye, and light it, too.  It's about all I have left."

 

"Be right back."  So saying, the fighter disappeared in the rain.

 

By the time he returned with a heaping armload of wet wood, Haley had gotten Vaarsuvius into dry clothes and safely bundled under blankets.

 

"I take it…Belkar was a problem?" he asked the group in general, raising an eyebrow at the now-bound halfling on the far side of the cave.

 

"Hey, I just offered to help!"

 

Haley scowled.  "Right.  Help take off V's clothes.  With a knife."

 

"I'm curious, so sue me."

 

Shaking his head, Roy deposited the pile of wood just inside the entrance, then selected a few choice logs for the fire.  "Untie him," he sighed as he brought the kindling over to a clear spot near their two most-badly-injured teammates.  Haley shrugged acquiescence as he addressed the dwarf.

 

"How's this?" he asked, indicating the wood.

 

"Tha'll do fine."  A few mumbled words, a prayer to Thor, and the cave soon had a blazing fire.  Haley, deciding not to tempt the halfling further, opted to dry her clothes on her body rather than risk changing out of them.  The conscious members of the group gnawed on some dry rations, then decided to call it a night.

 

"I'll take watch," stated the fighter, settling down near the door.  "I don't believe Red Cloak or Xykon have given up, despite the storm."  He intentionally neglected to mention how vulnerable they were to attack this night, or how grateful he'd been to find a defensible place to rest.

 

Haley placed a hand on his shoulder.  "You _do_ know you can trust us, don't you?"  She smiled sadly.  "I won't rob you and vanish into the night."

 

Roy nodded, glancing at Elan quietly sleeping near the fire.  "I know.  I'll call you if I need a break."

 

The thief silently turned and set her bedroll out next to the Bard, where she could keep an eye on him.  The dwarf was already snoring on the far side of the fire, and the halfling had disappeared into his own blankets muttering unintelligibly about a lack of trust.  Snorting, Roy turned to stare into the rain, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

 

The attack, when it came, was from a completely unexpected direction.  Roy stood guard vigilantly, keeping an eye both on the path approaching the cave as well as his sleeping teammates.  Sometime in the night Haley's arm draped protectively over her boyfriend; Greenhilt rolled his eyes at the sight, but left them alone.  _'Awkward, much?'_  

 

The dwarf snored loudly enough to shake the timbers, even though they were in a cave.  By the morning he should be rested enough to cast healing spells again, and not a minute too soon. 

 

His eyes strayed to the badly injured member of the group; Vaarsuvius slept fitfully, moaning from time to time in pain.  Instead of the usual floating lotus position, the elf lay supine, covered by the blankets Haley had thoughtfully provided.  _'Nothing to do but wait,'_ Roy pondered unhappily. 

 

Checking on the final member of his team, he was startled to see glittering black eyes staring back at him in the near-dark.  _'Doesn't he sleep?'_   Even as the thought crossed his mind, the onyx eyes closed, feigning rest.  Shuddering, the fighter turned back towards the entrance and his vigil.

 

A quiet scraping sound from the halfling's direction caused him to wheel around, ready to rebuke the ranger, only to be faced with a thin shaft of light coming from the _back wall_.  As he watched with dropped jaw, the wall opened, revealing a tunnel beyond.  The light was coming from the numerous torches held by a hoard of…

 

"Hobgoblins!" Roy yelled in alarm.  "To arms!"  He always felt ridiculous saying that, but it seemed to work. 

 

Belkar was on his feet in a flash.  "Alright!" he exclaimed.  "Goblin-stabbin' time!"

 

Roy didn't correct him; he was just grateful for the enthusiasm.  It took a full round to reach the back of the cave, by which time Belkar had already downed two of their attackers.  The rest of the team were just struggling out from under their blankets as Greenhilt started swinging his ancestral sword.

 

Durkon and Haley joined the pair just as the sheer numbers of hobgoblins began to force them backwards into the cave proper.  The dwarf moved to a position where he could use his battleaxe with impunity, while the rogue shot her bow unerringly into the fray.  Hobgoblins actually started blocking the secret passageway with their dead bodies, slowing up the live assault, making the rest easier to pick off.

 

Roy's eyes widened as a long wooden staff struck his current opponent with a loud _thwack_ , knocking it to the ground.  Turning to the newest combatant, he ordered, "V, get out of here!  You haven't been healed yet, and your magic is still depleted!"

 

"I can…still be…of some use…" the wizard panted.  "I…am hardly…incapacitated…." The staff took down another hobgoblin for emphasis. 

 

"Vaarsuvius!" he cried, but the admonition landed on deaf ears.  The mage's drawn face concentrated on the battle at hand, ignoring all other distractions.  Roy soon had his own problems to deal with, as two hobgoblins charged him at once.

 

The body count continued to rise, with no end in sight.  Fortunately the breach in the back wall of the cave was narrow enough to only allow a few enemy soldiers through at a time, but they just kept coming.  The Order of the Stick had only rested a couple of hours before this attack began, and their reaction times were correspondingly slowed.  A glance at their bedding showed Greenhilt that the thief had managed to drag the Bard out of harm's way, and he took a moment to check the chamber for their other injured member.

 

 _'There!'_ he thought, spotting the mage in the melee next to the breach.  The staff was swinging wildly, but now taking two or three blows to down a single opponent.  V was clearly wearing out.  Roy began to fight his way to the magic-user's side.  His eyes widened as he saw two hobs slip toward his injured friend, ready to strike.

 

"Vaarsuvius!  Behind you!"  Roy called out, unable to reach the wizard in time.  V swung around, but too slowly.  One hobgoblin's club struck in the abdomen while the other hit the side of the head, dropping the elf like a stone.

 

"NO!!!!  V!!!!"  Greenhilt became a man possessed, hacking his way indiscriminately towards his fallen teammate.  The hobgoblins fell back before this new onslaught, confused.  For a moment the fighter thought everything would be all right, but at the last second two trailing hobs turned back, snatched the unconscious elf beneath the shoulders, and dragged it through the closing doorway.  The other members of the Order, seeing the danger, rushed forward as one, but only Belkar was actually close enough to slip into the secret passage before it slammed shut.  Roy reached it a second later, pounding his fist futilely on the cold, hard stone.

 

"Let me look for the catch," suggested Haley, dropping to her knees to examine the wall.

 

"Stand back, lad," instructed Durkon gently.  "Let her do her job."

 

Roy turned anguished eyes towards the dwarf.  "I've…never lost a party member before.  I should have made V stay back with Elan!"

 

"You couldna' _made_ V do anythin'…" Durkon muttered, and Roy slowly nodded.  Stepping back, he gave Haley the room she needed.

 

\---------------------

 

The hobgoblins jogged through the maze of passages, unconscious prize slung over the shoulder of one of the larger soldiers.  The surviving group clearly knew where they were headed, and were losing no time getting there.  So intent on escape were they that no-one noticed the small, dark shadow following just outside the gleam of their torchlight.  Despite a tendency towards single-minded killing, the halfling paused at each intersection, making a small line in the dirt to indicate the passage taken before continuing onwards.

 

After nearly an hour of travel, the corridor opened into a relatively well-lit chamber, filled with over a hundred hobgoblins milling about.  This was their main encampment, and the halfling was smart enough to hide in the shadows behind some loose boulders at the edge of the entrance.  The goblin carrying Vaarsuvius went to the nearest fire and dropped his limp burden unceremoniously on the ground.  Unaware that they had been followed, the hobs' conversation was audible from where Belkar lurked.

 

"So, which one is that?" grunted the eldest.

 

"Dunno.  Someone send word to the Supreme Leader that we have captured one, per his instructions." 

 

A lower-level hobgoblin saluted and wordlessly ran off in the other direction while one of the Captains, as evidenced by his cape, bent over to examine the unmoving elf.

 

"I think this is their wizard," he finally commented. 

 

"There was no magic in battle."

 

"Maybe it was too tired, or too injured.  But it wears no armor, and is clearly an elf.  The Supreme Leader only mentioned one elf in the group."

 

The other hobgoblins got nervous.  "Then we should bind and gag it, before it awakens and attacks us all with arcane spells!"

 

Vaarsuvius chose that inopportune moment to groan and try to roll over as awareness returned.  A cry of alarm went up, and half-a-dozen Hobs jumped to pummel and kick the elf back into unconsciousness.  Belkar's eyes glittered dangerously, but Roy would want him to wait for reinforcements.

 

Within moments the mage was bound hand and foot, with a dirty cloth muffling speech.  When the elf showed no further signs of movement, one of the creatures knelt to check a pulse.  "Still alive," he reported, and the halfling released a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.  Sheathing his daggers, Belkar settled in to wait for his chance.

 

The caped leader pointed to the three hobgoblins nearest the captive.  "You, you, and you - guard duty.  The rest of you, come with me.  We have preparations to make."  Without waiting for a reply, he stalked off towards the center of the encampment.

 

\--------------------

 

"Don' let it bother ye, lass," consoled Durkon.  "I'll be askin' Thor to replenish my spells here shortly, then we can blast our way in."  The dwarf placed a hand on her slumped shoulders.

 

"But Vaarsuvius needs me, and I failed!" she wailed.

 

" _We_ failed," corrected Greenhilt darkly.  "Don't worry; come daybreak, we'll get our mage back."

 

Haley turned her tearstained face towards the fighter and dragged the back of her hand across her eyes, reassured by his certainty.  Nodding, she sat against the wall next to a groggy Elan, to await the dawn.

 

\---------------------

 

Consciousness returned slowly, and with it more pain than the elf could remember.  Staying completely motionless this time, Vaarsuvius listened intently to discern the current situation.  The hobgoblins continued to talk, unaware of their audience.

 

"So what does the Supreme One want with a lowlife like this?" asked one of the guards derisively. 

 

"Bait, or so I hear," replied a second, trying to speak around a mouthful of dinner.  "We use the captive to lure the Order to a place of our choosing, where they will be destroyed."

 

"How will we keep them from finding us before we're ready?" asked the first, glancing nervously back up the corridor leading to the cave.

 

"If they could have tracked us, they'd be here by now," replied the second, ripping the flesh off a lamb's leg with his teeth.  "So don't worry.  We'll have plenty of entertainment before they're contacted."  He chuckled evilly, booting the mage's limp body with his toe.  Somehow Vaarsuvius managed to not respond, feigning unconsciousness despite the pain.  Being discovered awake would be…bad.

 

The third voice was more curious.  "So…is it male or female?  I can never tell with elves."

 

"Does it matter?" responded Number Two, and the group cackled malevolently.  "Wish it'd wake up, though.  This is getting boring."  He nudged the mage with his boot again, still without response. 

 

"Hey, is that blood?" asked Number One, pointing to the elf's thigh.

 

"I do believe it is…"  With no further warning, the bored guard clamped a meaty hand over the elf's leg and squeezed…hard.

 

Vaarsuvius's eyes flew open with an involuntary gasp, almost inhaling the gag.  The goblin chuckled appreciatively, chucking the bone from his dinner over his shoulder to the ground.  "Well, now, that's more like it.  Didn't like _this_?" 

 

He squeezed again, harder.  The mage withheld a groan through sheer willpower, refusing to give the monsters the satisfaction a second time.  Tears of pain streaked from closed eyes nevertheless.

 

"Come on, you can do better than that," commented the third guard.  Snagging their captive by the scruff of his collar, he dragged V into an upright sitting position.  Standing back, the hob put his hands on his hips and regarded the now-glaring wizard thoughtfully.  Time for fun and games.

 

"Magic-user, huh?  I'll bet you can't do much with broken fingers…"  In an instant he seized the elf's bound hands and snapped three digits in rapid succession.

 

Vaarsuvius screamed in agony through the filthy cloth, before slumping sideways in shock, unconscious once more.  The guards looked at each other, then started to laugh.

 

Belkar's eyes narrowed to angry slits as he watched his companion's mistreatment.  It had been hours, and 'patient' wasn't a descriptive word that applied to him.  Roy could stick any complaints where the sun don't shine.  Gripping a dagger tightly in each clenched fist, he sprang.

 

The hobgoblins never knew what hit them as 3'2" of barefoot fury suddenly appeared in their midst.  Unfortunately one had enough time to scream before his throat was slit, thus alerting the rest of the soldiers in the chamber.  The halfling smiled in anticipation, stationing himself astride his limp teammate's body, and waited for his attackers.

 

They came.  Wave upon wave of orange-skinned hobgoblins, wielding all manner of knives, axes, and swords.  Wave upon wave of dead bodies began to pile up around the Ranger, who killed like a man who truly loved killing (which he did).  Soon he was fighting within a veritable fortress of dead hobgoblins, as new attackers actually had to clamber over piles of bodies to reach their own doom at his hands.

 

"It's just one little halfling!" cried their leader, staying well back himself.  "What are you, weaklings?"

 

"Come on, if you want to die," chuckled Belkar.  "Two daggers, no waiting."  The psychotic sound of his laughter echoing through the chamber gave even the bravest among them pause.

 

Eyes wide, the front line ceased charging and began to back up, ever so slightly.  Even hobgoblins want to live, and attacking Belkar was certain death.  They fell back to regroup and consider a new plan.

 

Belkar took advantage of the lull to examine his teammate, who still showed no signs of waking.  Rapidly untying both the ropes and the gag, his mouth set in a grim line at the unnatural angle of the three fingers of the right hand.  While the mage was still unconscious, he took the opportunity to yank them out straight and splint them as best he could.  He then peeked over the mound of dead bodies at the remaining hobgoblins in the cave.

 

Apparently the enemy had concluded that a straightforward attack was tantamount to suicide.  Instead, they appeared to be content to await reinforcements, spreading out in a circle well outside Belkar's throwing range.  The Ranger climbed down, frustrated.

 

Vaarsuvius was waking, struggling to sit up without jarring either fingers or leg in the process.  Voice raspy from the gag, the mage asked, "So…so what are they doing?" 

 

Belkar helped V settle into a propped position on some nearby corpses.  "They've made a circle about three deep all around our position, and are just sitting there," he replied in disgust.

 

"They're guarding us, no doubt.  As long as we remain within this cavern, their plans proceed apace.  Minimal loss of life that way - you must make the first move."

 

"What about you?  You recovered enough to prepare spells?"

 

V gave him a look that could melt glass.  "Do I _look_ recovered?  First, I have not rested sufficiently.  Second, I do not have my spellbooks here with which to prepare my runes.  Third, even if the first two requirements were met, I would be unable to perform the complicated hand movements required of any but the simplest of spells."  The elf held up a splinted hand in demonstration, then looked at the bandage in surprise.  "I suppose I have you to thank for the setting of my digits?"

 

"Yeah," Belkar grunted.  "Figured it'd be easier while you were passed out."

 

Vaarsuvius gave the halfling a curious look and nodded.  "Thank you."

 

They sat a moment in awkward silence until the ranger decided to take another peek at their opposition.  Clambering up the mound of corpses, he looked out between two near the top, then scrambled back down.  "Still sitting there.  We can sit, too.  Only we'll be recovering…"  So saying, he handed the elf a waterskin, which was received thankfully.

 

After taking a long draught, the mage handed back the leather canteen.  "I don't suppose you have any healing potions on you?"  Vaarsuvius rather expected the answer to be negative, but it never hurt to ask.

 

"Used them all up yesterday," replied Belkar shortly. 

 

The elf's head came up at the tone of regret in the halfling's statement.  _'No, no, no…he will not care.  I won't have it!!!'_

 

"Not that you would admit it if you did…" tested the elf hesitantly.

 

"Probably not," replied the halfling noncommittally, avoiding his teammate's gaze.  Instead he stared upwards, as if the cavern ceiling held the secrets of the universe.

 

Vaarsuvius's eyes closed in resignation.  _'I'm too tired for this right now.  I'll reassert his hatred…later…after Durkon has healed us…and we're out of this unfortunate situation.'_   So thinking, V fitfully slipped into slumber.

 

Belkar shot a sly sideways glance and, upon ascertaining that the mage was truly asleep, hazarded another glimpse at the surrounding army.  Was it his imagination, or were there more than last time he looked?  Just more hobs to kill, after all.  Looking again at the sleeping wizard, his stomach flipped uncomfortably.  _'Why do I even care, anyway?'_ he wondered.  _'It's not as if…it…isn't a royal pain in the arse...'_

He chuckled and muttered, "'Course, life would be boring if V weren't around to torment…"  Satisfied with that explanation, he settled back and started rooting through the pockets of nearby corpses, seeing if there was any good loot to be found.  No sense in letting Haley grab it all.

 

\---------------------

 

"Thor's Lightning!" cried Durkon, as electricity shot from his fingertips and impacted the secret door with a satisfying explosion.  Bits of stone flew in all directions, exposing the passageway just beyond.

 

"Pretty as you please," commented Greenhilt gratefully.  "It's good to have you back at full power, Durkon."

 

The rest of the team, having already received the benefits of the Dwarf's 'cure' spells, nodded enthusiastically.  Even Elan looked no worse for the wear, and held his rapier at the ready.  Ray looked at them all and smiled with determination.  "Let's go get our people."  With that he turned and led the way into the corridor.

 

\----------------------

 

The sound from the explosion rumbled into the cavern below, causing the hobgoblins to mill about in alarm.  Vaarsuvius startled from a restless doze, eyes unfocussed from what was most likely a concussion.  "What…..where…?"

 

The halfling had other problems.  Scrambling up to his previous viewpoint, he stared at the hobgoblins a few minutes before releasing a string of expletives that challenged even the elf's impressive vocabulary skills.  Hurriedly Belkar rejoined the mage on the ground and, looping a hand under an armpit, began pulling the magic-user to a standing position.

 

"I'm guessing that's Durkon's announcement that he's fully charged and that the rest of the Order are on their way.  I'm also guessing the hobgoblins aren't planning to wait and find out.  Get ready to run."  He pointed towards the tunnel leading to the surface.  "That way's out."

 

V took a deep breath and nodded, too weak to argue.  Right now Belkar was calling the shots. The elf snagged a staff from a nearby corpse to replace the one left in the cave, and got ready to follow orders.

 

The hobgoblins repeated their waves of frontal assault, desperate to capture their prisoners and escape before the rest of the adventurers arrived.  Unfortunately for them, Belkar was not only still just as proficient with his daggers, but he'd also rested a few hours and had someone to watch his back.  The dead bodies accumulated at twice the rate they had hours previously.  Still, the pair threatened to be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.  Vaarsuvius sank to one knee as the damaged right leg finally gave out.  The Ranger began his maniacal laughing.  The Hobs kept coming.

 

At that moment lightning erupted from the passageway, clearing a swath of enemy before it.  The other four members of the Order burst on the scene, wreaking mayhem through the crowd.

 

"Hey, guys, glad you could join the party!" came Belkar's voice from behind a mountain of hobgoblin corpses.  "Now get your asses over here!"

 

Roy caught Durkon'e eye and shrugged; at least they knew where their Ranger had got to.  They fought their way towards him with surprisingly little difficulty, as the hobgoblins had had enough.  Soon there was a full rout, and the Order made it to Belkar's position without casualty.

 

Before climbing into the halfling's range, Greenhilt decided it would be prudent to announce himself and avoid a stabbing.  "Belkar!  It's just us.  We're coming over!"

 

"Durkon with you?"

 

"Yes, of course."

 

"Good…"

 

Roy topped the mound just as their resident psychopath slipped to the ground, exhausted, next to the motionless mage.  Staring up into his leader's eyes, he continued, "…Because V's in really bad shape."

 

The dwarf was there in a flash.  "Heal serious wounds!" he exclaimed.  "Heal critical wounds!"  As the rest of the team gathered anxiously around, the cleric muttered prayer after prayer over the comatose magic-user.  Finally his hard work was rewarded; Vaarsuvius's eyes fluttered open.

 

"Wha….Durkon?"  The elf was disoriented.  "What happened?"

 

"Nevermind that.  We need to get out of here.  Can you walk?"  Roy interrupted.

 

The mage considered for a moment, then replied, "Yes.  Yes, I think so…."

 

"Elan, you and Durkon help."  Turning to their miniature conquering hero, he asked, "What about you, Belkar?  Can you walk?"

 

The Ranger snorted derisively and leapt to his feet.  "Walk, skip, jump, slaughter.  It's all the same to me.  Back to the cave?"

 

Roy nodded.  "It's a lot less open than this room.  Now that we know about both entrances, we can guard it more effectively.  Despite the healing, V still needs to rest and recover."

 

The Order slowly wound its way back to their erstwhile sanctuary, Vaarsuvius leaning heavily on Elan and Durkon for support.  Haley went on ahead of the group to make certain that there weren't any hobgoblin stragglers, but had no encounters.  By the time the rest of the Order made it back to the cave, she had stoked the fire and spread out bedding for the erstwhile captive.

 

Vaarsuvius's face reddened at all the attention.  "That is not necessary, Miss Starshine.  I am quite capable of…"

 

"Nonsense," interrupted Haley, taking the mage's arm.  "Let's get you bundled up." 

 

The elf was quickly ensconced in blankets and handed a roll of bread and a bowl of soup.  Much as Vaarsuvius might protest, it was nice to be fussed over for a change.  Within a few minutes of eating, the magic-user was sound asleep, dreaming of ultimate arcane power.

 

Roy approached Belkar as the halfling was scrubbing hobgoblin blood off his hands.  "Good work back there," he opined.  "You left an easy trail to follow."

 

"Yeah, well I figured you guys needed all the help you could get."

 

"That was quite some pile of corpses - all yours?"

 

Belkar shot him a feral grin.  "Yeah, they were.  Made a nice barricade, too."  His eyes narrowed as he recalled his teammate's torture.  "Just wish I'd killed them all."

 

Clapping a hand on the halfling's shoulder, the fighter laughed, "I'm sure you'll get your chance."

 

The earlier grin returned, taking on a more lethal quality.  "You think so?"

 

Roy nodded.  "I'd bet on it."  Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he continued, "I'm going to check on V.  I think there's more soup if you want some."

 

"In a minute."  Belkar started unloading the loot he'd acquired from the dead hobs into his pack as Greenhilt turned politely away.  A quick glance around the cave revealed Elan standing watch by the front entrance while Durkon took the rear.  Haley was busy tucking the covers around their rescued mage before returning to tend the fire.

 

 _'What do you know?  We really are a team!'_   Roy nodded to himself in satisfaction.  _'Xykon isn't going to know what hit him.'_

 

\----The End----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
